


Westward, Look

by AmaurotDreaming (blackwolfbite)



Series: Horny Hour [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Ambiguous Gender Reader, Ambiguous Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Ascians (Final Fantasy XIV), Exhibitionism, Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Fingering, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 11:13:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20741273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackwolfbite/pseuds/AmaurotDreaming
Summary: Following events in the Rak'tika Greatwood, you receive a visitor at the Pendants.  He's exactly as infuriating as he always is.The game has changed.  The players have not.





	Westward, Look

"Something to say, hero?" Those are the words he opens with, a soft little gasp escaping your lips as you're abruptly pinned against the wall outside your room at the Pendants. The large space, round and wood, and metal, seems to have been designed to echo, and you blush deep scarlet at the way your whimper must carry to half the Crystarium. The hand that shoved you catches your hair to drag your head back and then slides around to press long fingers to your lips as the owner of the voice casts warm breath into your ear.

_Of course_ it's Emet-Selch. _Of course_ he'd noticed the way you've been staring at him since the little incident in Rak'tika, wondering at what other powers his hands possess. And now, judging by the way his other hand is slipping into your trousers, you're about to find out.

His grin is lazy, a sated cat with a patch of sunlight and little desire to leave it. "You are one of few words, though, aren't you? Hmm--a pity. I do rather enjoy hearing my partners in the midst of their pleasure. I suppose I shall have to expend something of an effort on you after all."

With that, his fingers slip beneath the elastic between your legs and up inside you, stoking the gentle flame at your core into full blaze with that one single motion. "A-ah!" you cry, and a "please..." garbled by his other hand entering into your mouth, tugging gently at your lips to put a little pressure on your tongue.

You can feel his smile against your ear, warm and wicked and taunting. "Look at you!" he says, voice barely more than a whisper. "The vaunted Warrior of Light--or should I say _Warrior of Darkness_?--slick and malleable in my hands. The hands of an _Ascian_. Now you see how it is that lesser men than you are enticed to bring about their own ruin. But you're not one of them, are you? Greater powers must needs call for greater temptations, and so it is that I have you here, on the verge of coming undone, in public, in broad daylight." The fingers of his lower hand twist, and you can't help but let out a sharp cry of pleasure at the impending release.

And just as swiftly, they withdraw, leaving you hot and wanting, clenching and dripping around infernal nothingness. Teeth sharper than you remember find the lobe of your ear and his nose presses alongside your cheek, his face turned to regard you from up close with one golden eye. "Do try not to wake the entire Crystarium with your begging, hero," he says.

And then, with a flash of purple-black aethers, he's gone as quickly as he arrived.

**Author's Note:**

> Written on the fly in response to a Discord message. Likely to be continued.
> 
> Title from a poem by Arthur Hugh Clough.


End file.
